Let's Start at the Beginning
by ChameleonArch
Summary: AU. If the Doctor were Rose Tyler and John Smith the Doctor, 10th specifically the companion, loosely inspired by Pink and Yellow and So Very Very Human a terrific read from A Who Down in Whoville I checked . The rating may change in later episodes.
1. S1E1 Pt1: John

**Hiya. I got bored with the other stories I'd started and decided I'd better finish this one before uploading it. So, here's c hapter one of my AU story. A story I read, I think by Laura x Tennant or A Who Down in Whoville, caled Pink and Yellow and So Very Very Human (or something like that) inspired this. What if the Doctor (John Smith) were Rose's (the Doctor) companion? So, I wrote this. I may or may not upload the whole season, on one hand, I could do the more important episodes, or I could just do all of them. It'd take longer though.**

**If anyone's reading this, it'd be nice to have some input on that.**

**BTW, I don't own any of this; yeah, big surprise. I'm not RT Davies.**

**Let's Start at the Beginning…**

**Chapter One: John**

John Smith woke, as he normally did so, at 7:30 in the morning. He completed his morning ritual by slamming his hand down on the snooze button and groaning a tired moan before shoving himself out of bed. He knew he needed to get up, but really, must he? Yes, he must, he decided reluctantly, and rolled out of bed tiredly.

A yawn split his jaw with a soft pop of his bones shifting, and he rubbed his bed-hair messily before stumbling out of his room and sleepwalking through making a pot of tea.

"You alrigh', mate?" his dorm-mate Mickey Smith (not any relation mind you, just coincidence) asked amusedly as he watched John fumble through his morning tasks.

"Eh…" he mumbled, squinting at the cabinet, as if wishing it would open at the press of a button instead of having to lift his arm up and open it.

"If ya drank coffee, ya wouldn't have this problem," Mickey laughed, raising a cup of the brown liquid to mark his point. John only frowned a little.

"I prefer tea," he only replied absentmindedly, opening the cupboard with another jaw-splitting yawn.

"Whatever, John," Mickey shook his head with a laugh as John poured out what seemed like half of the sugar bag into his tea before adding an extra helping of milk. "Ya gonna have tea with that sugared milk?" John mumbled back something unintelligible past the cup before throwing back a large gulp of the tea.

John blinked, eyes going from dull brown to electric in a flash.

"Ah, there we go!" he exclaimed, eyes opening wide and body jumping back to life. "Mickey! Mickity-Mickity-Mick!" John made a face and stared at him oddly. "How long have you been down here?"

"Since seven," Mickey replied, shaking his head at this bout of amnesia. John had to be forgiven, what with all the other much more high-tech stuff going on through his head Mickey was a tiny speck of triviality in the student's life.

"Huh," John took another swallow of his tea and shivered at the sugar rush. "Ah, that's the stuff." He closed his eyes a moment before transforming from a tired, decidedly un-morning person into a hyperactive chipmunk of disorder.

"Remember ya have to help me pick out a present for Lydia!" Mickey yelled after him. John signaled he had heard and remembered with an impatient wave of his hand before dropping into his car and driving off.

"He might have a degree in astrophysics," Mickey sighed, leaning against the door. "But how much help will 'e be in 'enricks?"

Not much, it seemed, as many hours later, John was staring confusedly a bit of women's clothing.

"How's that supposed to keep you warm or protect you in any way?" he muttered to himself, eyebrows crossed over bewildered eyes. Mickey glanced at it and sighed.

"Tha's no' somethin' ya needed to see, mate," Mickey rolled his eyes and dragged off the befuddled man. Even though John was technically older than Mickey, it didn't seem like it when John acted like a child – which was pretty much whenever he saw something shiny or vaguely interesting to a physicist-in-training – and didn't seem to have a clue about women. Not that Mickey often did either, but he did know some things, which was more than John.

"Nor is it likely yer gonna see it ever again," Mickey muttered to himself as the older man interested himself in the watches on the glass tables. Mickey couldn't imagine John with a girl; it was rather like thinking of those equations John easily used in his head and Mickey trying to figure them out by himself.

John's only girl was his complex formulae.

'_This is a customer announcement: the store will be closing in five minutes. Thank you.'_ An announcement clearly echoed all over the store.

"Crap!" Mickey still hadn't picked out anything for his girlfriend, and John was talking rather animatedly to an amused security guard.

"Mickity-Mick! Lookit what I found!" and John held up a glittering silver and pink watch that looked just perfect.

"Perfect!" Mickey grinned.

"Oi, mate, d'ya mind takin' this down to a bloke called Wilson?" the security guard offered a plastic bag to John. "Down in the basement, if ya could." John nodded, taking the packet. "Thanks mate. I'll let ya out later."

"John, I gotta go," Mickey gestured at the doors of the shop after paying for the pretty watch. "Me and Lydia got a date soon."

"Go on," John said cheerfully. "I'll just find this Wilson-bloke." He turned on heel and swept off, his brown mole trench coat swinging just above his burgundy Converse, into a lift.

The doors of the lift opened and he stepped out into the slightly darkened basement, the cool air rushing over his face. The plastic bag rustled in his fingers as he looked around the corridor of the basement.

"Wilson?" he called out cautiously, bringing up the bag to look at the contents. "Em, Wilson? I've got your, er, lottery money…?" He glanced to his right and saw a door labeled with the name Wilson. He rapped smartly on it, bouncing back on his heels as he waited for reply.

"You there?" He called out cheerfully. There was no reply, and John frowned a little to himself. Whether the guard was letting him out or not, he did have some work he'd like to get to. "They're closing up shop, Wilsy-boy! Gotta go! Time's ticking!" John wished he had a watch to tap, but his wrist was bare, and there was no one to see anyways.

After another bout of silence, John tilted his head toward the door, just to see if he'd missed a sound, when a clattering noise came from his right. He squinted down the corridor.

"Oi, Wilson, that you?" he called, jogging down. "C'mon, old boy, can't leave without your lottery money, eh?" He followed the sound, opened the door, and let himself in, as he normally did: with little invitation. He poked his head in and about, looking in the dark room with an uneasy feeling growing in his stomach. He hated that feeling; it usually turned out to be correct in its fear.

John slipped fully into the room and flicked on the lights with the tip of his long finger before letting the door close behind him. The lights flickered on to reveal tall boxes, old clothing, and dummies just standing around all down the walls. He briskly walked past all the displays and found another door, which he tried, when the bang of a door shutting and locking echoed from his right.

"Uh oh," he murmured to himself, eyebrows high as he ran back and tested the door with a slight groan as they refused to open. "No, wait a minute…?" Another noise came from behind him, like there was someone else walking around.

"Is that someone mucking about?" he called doubtfully, feeling that same twist of unease spark once more in his throat. "Wilson, I hope that's you… who is it?" He thought he heard a grinding noise behind him, and turned. A plastic dummy lifted itself off its stand and shifted towards him as he stumbled back.

"Oh, hallo," he muttered nervously, tugging on his ear as he stared at the dummy in surprise. "Who's little prank was this?" he tried to keep it joking, in case it was all for a bullying laugh. "Eh? C'mon, I know ya got to be fake…" More figures were creaking towards him now, from all sides, and he half wondered what could possibly induce so many people to act so crazy.

John backed up, keeping his hands in his pockets as he anxiously scanned the crowd for a snicker or giggle, something to give away the dead silence which these figures crept in. The ones nearest him raised their hands, stiff like a salute, when something warm wrapped around his hand. He looked at the source of the warmth, a thin hand with tightly gripping fingers, than followed the leather-sleeved arm up to a pair of stormy blue eyes.

"Run," the girl next to him advised, eyes serious. And she pulled him off his feet as the pipe behind them broke at the karate chop of one of the plastic dummies. He dashed after her, hands still clenched tight, as they blasted through push doors out into a long corridor, ending in an elevator.

The girl pulled him into the back of the elevator and pressed a button, but not before one of the dummies managed to wriggle his arm into the opening between doors as they shut on it. The girl grabbed the arm and tugged fiercely at it, teeth clenched tight as she yanked it off the dummy and the doors slid shut.

"You pulled its arm off," John observed weakly.

"Yup," she sighed, tossing the arm back at him. John fumbled it for a moment before managing to hold it steady, staring at the completely solid plastic arm that this girl had just yanked off a living plastic dummy. "Plastic." How could she have just ripped it off him? The actor must've been armless. Or something.

"Very clever, nice trick," John snorted, still studying the arm with a strange look on his face. "Who're they, then, students? Is this a students' thing or what?"

"Why would they be students?" the girl gave him a look with sarcastic blue eyes, shifting in her black leather coat. Her gruff Northern accent only made her words harsher and more smirking.

"I dunno," John shrugged a little.

"Well you said it, why students?" she questioned, turning back to the elevator doors with arms crossed.

"'Cos… to get that many people dressed up and being silly... they gotta be students," John reasoned with another little shrug and matter-of-fact tone.

"That makes sense, well done," the girl gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her cold eyes, but how was he supposed to respond to that sort of answer?

"Thanks…?"

"They're not students," she looked at the door with a shake of her head.

"Whoever they are, that Wilson bloke's gonna find them and call the police."

"Who's Wilson?" the girl asked, head cocked.

"Er," John thought, seeing the plate on the door. "Chief electrician, I think."

"Wilson's dead," the girl replied flatly before stepping out of the lift and leaving John confused.

"That's just not funny, that's sick," John followed her out of the lift, wondering after her mental health and, at the same time, wondering why this strange, short-haired girl was here in the bottom of a basement and was acting so cold.

"Hold on, mind your eyes," she shoved him off to the side and pointed a buzzing stick at it, glowing a faint blue all over the elevator controls until it sparked.

"Who are you?" John meant to ask, but the girl seemed to ignore him, shoving past him once more with what seemed like an abnormally strong push. "Who's that lot down there?" The girl just kept walking at that brisk, decided jog. "Who are they?"

"They're made of plastic, living plastic creatures," the girl explained quickly, hardly making sense as they turned corners and went down halls. "They're being controlled by a relay device in the roof. Which would be a great big problem if," she lifted a strange, beeping electronic pad, "I didn't have this, so!" she ran up the steps to a door. "I'm going to go up there and blow them up, and I might well die in the process. But don't worry about me, no. Go home, go on! Go and have your lovely beans on toast." She smiled cheerfully for one who thought she was going to die soon.

She pushed him out the door and gave him one last warning, "Don't tell anyone about this, because if you do, you'll get them killed." And she shut the door, leaving John, gaping and blinking, wondering when time had stopped and when it had left him spinning in circles quite like this before.

Then the door opened again and John turned around to face the girl once more, feeling more bewildered than he ever had.

"I'm the Doctor by the way, what's yer name?" she waited a little, but John hardly had time to think, let alone come up with an answer he deemed appropriate, so his name spilled out of his mouth almost as quick as she had asked.

"John,"

"Nice to meet you, John," she held up the bomb with a delightfully mad grin. "Run for yer life!" And she ducked back in. John stood, plastic arm in one hand and a bag of lottery money in the other, as he stumbled down the dark street and wondered what had happened.

Meters away from the building, he watched as the roof of Henricks went up in flames, glass shattering and exploding out and he stumbled back. He hadn't expected her to actually… he wondered if she were dead. He wondered how she had escaped if she hadn't died.

"Hey, man, I was just watchin' some telly when I saw 'enricks blew up!" Mickey began ranting as soon as John opened the door.

"Yeah, I kinda saw it too," John grinned a little weakly before flopping into a chair and wishing he had a good cuppa.

"You could get compensation fer that, I'll bet," Mickey nodded. "Some sorta money deal, I mean ya were in the building an' all…"

"I was already out by then," John shook his head and got up to make tea with a sigh. "It doesn't matter, Mickey, alright?"

"Still, I bet they're takin' all sorts'a people off the streets t'interview," Mickey insisted. "And I mean, whatcha drinkin' tea fer? Nah, you need something stiffer…" Mickey's voice trailed off when he saw his friend wasn't paying the least attention; John's eyes were fixed on something else entirely.

"You and me, down to the pub, le's ge' a drink…"

"There's a match on, right?" John asked vaguely, eyes staring past Mickey and focused somewhere near the TV.

"Yeah, so?"

"Don't care for going out, you go," John waved him off, a cup of tea still gripped in his hand as he sat back down on the couch. "Go on, I'd rather stay home."

"Really, mate, 'cuz…"

"I'm fine, now go and focus your intensive possessiveness on your girlfriend, she'll like it a whole lot more than me," John grinned a little, weakly.

"Alright then," Mickey stood to leave.

"Oh, and bin that when you get out, eh?" John called after him, gesturing to the arm.

"Heh, bye!" Mickey waved the arm playfully, and John tried not to shudder when he recalled that arm coming very nearly close to chopping his head off. When Mickey put the hand over his throat and pretended to choke, John only looked away, feeling a little ill at the reminder.

**Good so far? Kinda nervous here, I'm best at dialogue and word choice than descriptions and backgrounds, if you can't tell. So, reveiw, or not. Don't really care... sort of.**


	2. S1E1 Pt2: The Next Day

**LSATB**

**Chapter 2: The Next Day**

7:30 the next morning, John woke and felt a sense of déjà vu at the peculiarity of his morning ritual.

_No need to wake up, _John thought tiredly as he slumped back into bed. _Saturday. I hate Saturday mornings, almost as much as Monday mornings… the whole of Mondays, actually. And Thursday afternoons…_ He let himself fall back to sleep.

John sat at the kitchen table, staring intently at the patterns in it with a frown, as his fingers tapped on the ceramic cup he held.

"I wonder what happened to the security guards?" Mickey pondered as he came into the kitchen, sitting at the table with a far-off expression in his eyes. "I mean, why couldn't they've done somefin'? 'Oo blew i'up, ya suppose?"

"I dunno, Mickey," John replied tiredly. "Look, could ya just drop it? I just wanna…" A rattling skittering sort of sound came from the door, and John stood to find out what had caused. "I thought you said you nailed the cat flap down, Mickey?"

"I did," Mickey replied, looking confused. John knelt near the flap and picked up the nails that had popped out and frowned. The cat flap shuddered again, to his surprise.

"Huh?" John mumbled, lowering his body more to look at the flap, then he prodded it with his finger before jerking back to avoid what might jump through. Nothing came. He reached out quickly and pushed it all the way open.

It was the girl from before, her blue eyes frowning at him, that girl who called herself… the Doctor, wasn't it?

"Wh-," he stood quickly and opened the door.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes up at him.

"I live here," John blinked back.

"Well what'd you do that for?"

"'Cuz I do…" he watched her wriggle that strange silvery-blue light-y thing out of her leather jacket inside pocket and lighting it in the air.

"Must be the wrong signal," she frowned. "You're not plastic, are you?" she reached up and unceremoniously knocked on his forehead. "Nope, bone 'ead, bye then!" She smiled cheerfully, the emotion not quite reaching those sarcastic eyes, before trying to dash off.

"Wait a minute," John grabbed her by the arm, feeling she owed him some sort of explanation. Especially as to why she kept popping up recently.

"'Oo is it?" Mickey called.

"No one," John replied loud enough for Mickey to hear. "Just… no one. Go to your job, it's what they pay you for, right?"

"Don't mind the mess," John straightened up a little as he bustled past Mickey, ignoring the look Mickey was giving him, the 'oh, WOW!' look. "Do you want coffee?"

"Might at well, just milk, thanks," she breezed into his living room, flipping through the magazines with a concentrated look on her face, an expression half of disbelief and half humored.

"Would the police help, d'ya think?" John frowned as he pulled the coffee machine closer and dumped in a couple scoops.

"Huh, that won't last," the girl remarked to herself with a scoff, throwing down the magazine. "He's gay and she's an alien."

"I'm not blaming you," John continued, pulling out the sugar for himself. "Even if it was some sort of joke that just went wrong…"

"Hm, sad ending," the girl flipped through a book and set it down again before picking up an envelope from the desk with a smirk.

"It said on the news, they found a body…"

"John Smith." She enunciated, feeling the way her new tongue pressed against her new teeth for the sounds. She happened to glance in the mirror as she looked up. "Eh, coulda been worse, lookit the hair!" she ran a hand across the punkish spiked jet black hair, cropped close to her head.

"…he was a nice bloke, I'll bet. I mean, I didn't know him personally…"

She looked down again and saw cards, "If luck be a lady," she sang a little, grinning to herself in a childish sort of way as she shuffled the cards.

"…anyways, if we do go to the police, I wanna know what I'm saying…"

She shuffled the cards from one hand to another, just messing around to see if she had any new abilities she just picked up.

"I want you to explain everything, seeing as I barely knew what was going on and, well, obviously I can't tell anyone what really happened…" John began rambling, as per norm.

"Oops," she muttered as the cards flew from her hand and scattered all about, frowning to herself a little at the inconvenience. Card tricks were obviously not a new skill. "Maybe not."

The skittering sound of something crawling across the wooden floor interrupted the girl's thoughts as she turned to face it.

"What was that then?" she asked loudly, crossing the room. "You got a cat?"

"No," John frowned to himself as she peered over the couch and had little time to counter the hand clamping onto her neck as it flew up at her. "We did have, but… used to get strays off the Estate…" John came in with both coffees and sighed at what looked like a playful, pretend struggle with the arm.

"Told Mickey to chuck that out," he sighed, glancing at the girl besieged with the arm. "Honestly, give an idiot a plastic arm," John muttered. "Not that I'm calling you an idiot, just, really? It's rather childish… anyways, I don't even know your name... Doctor…? What was it?" The girl threw the arm off with a grunt and it flew at John, as if it had wings, and clamped onto his face.

"Got it!" the girl leapt off the couch and began yanking on it, with little avail. She let out a frustrated snort and, pulling out her glow stick, waved it at the arm. It tightened, than fell off, revealing John's pale face under it.

"There you go, see?" she grinned. "'Armless." She tossed him the arm.

"D'ya think?" John rolled his eyes, gruffly whacking her with it on the shoulder.

"Ow," she frowned, rubbing her shoulder through the thick leather, but there was a playful smirk hidden behind the frown.

"Hold on a minute, you can't just go swanning off!" John tumbled down the apartment steps after her; she was amazingly fast and agile, as if used to running and avoiding things.

"Yes I can, here I am, this is me, swanning off," she grinned back up at him, waved the arm as she ran down the stairs. "See ya!"

"That arm was moving; it tried to kill me!" _Again_, John thought.

"Ten outta ten for observation," was her only dry remark.

"You can't just walk away, that's not fair!" What was fair, anyways? "You gotta tell me what's going on."

"No I don't!" Now she was just avoiding him. They pushed out of the apartments into the street.

"Alright then, I'll go to the police, I'll tell everyone," John knew he was pulling out his weakest card, but it was the only one he had right now. "You said if I did that I'd get people killed. So, your choice. Tell me or, I'll start talking."

"S'at supposed to sound tough?" she spared him a glance, an amused one.

"Sort of…?"

"Doesn't work," she kept walking.

"Who are you?" John tried another avenue, maybe he could work his way around in the conversation to ask her. He was quite good at talking.

"Told ya, the Doctor."

"Yeah, but Doctor what?"

"Just the Doctor." Who named their kid 'The Doctor'? Didn't that sound super pretentious? 'This is my son, Luke Hammerstein.' 'Well this is my son; you can just call him the Doctor. Never mind he's not actually a doctor yet, just call him that.'

"The Doctor?" John asked dubiously.

"Hullo!" she waved a hand with a cheery smile and John repressed a laugh, but it came out as a sort of giggle.

"Is that supposed to sound impressive?"

"Sort of," she agreed, nodding.

"C'mon then," John caught up by her side. "Tell me?" He used the puppy eyes his mother had always sworn would get him anything he liked with the right girls. He had never wanted to use them so badly before. "I've seen a lot. Are you the police?"

"No," she scoffed a little. "I was just… passing through. I'm a long way from 'ome."

"Well what've I done wrong?" John stuck his hands in his pockets, frowning to himself. "How come those plastic things keep coming after me?"

"Oh! Suddenly the entire world revolves around you?" she asked incredulously. "You were just an accident; you just got in the way, that's all."

"It tried to kill me!"

"He was after me, not you!" She sounded like she wanted it to only come after her, expected everything to only be about her. John smiled a little to himself at that realization. "Last night, in the shop, I was there, you blundered in - almost ruined the whole thing - this morning I was tracking it down it was tracking me down… The only reason it fixed on you was because you met me!"

"So what you're saying is, the entire world, revolves around you?" John smiled, unable to keep from laughing at this a little.

"Sort of, yeah," she grinned.

"You're full of it," John shook his head with a light chuckle.

"Sort of, yeah," she admitted cheerily.

"But, all this plastic stuff, who else knows about it?"

"No one," her voice got hard as they turned onto another street.

"What, you're on your own?"

"Well who else is there? I mean, you lot all you do is eat chips, go to bed and watch telly! While all the time, underneath yeh, there's a war going on!" What war? John stared at her, than easily grabbed the arm from her unsuspecting hand.

"Alright them, tell me. Start from the beginning."


	3. S1E1 Pt3: The Doctor

**LSATB**

**Chapter Three: The Doctor**

No one had ever listened to the Doctor so intently before, like he was actually serious about knowing this stuff when she had tried very hard to get him to shove off. But the Doctor wasn't sure if she was quite ready to have another companion, she was still… depressed was probably the best word for it.

"If you're gonna go with this living plastic, and I don't even believe that, but if we do... how did you… kill it?" 'Kill' probably wasn't the technical word for what she had done, and the Doctor shuddered at it just a little inwardly.

"The thing controlling it projects life into the arm, I can cut off the signal, dead," she shrugged a little.

"So that's like radio control?" he frowned, head tilted to the side.

"Thought control," she corrected; after a bout of silence, which seemed to be rather unnatural for him, she glanced over. "You alright?" He looked a little troubled, but mostly deep in thought.

"Yeah," he said softly, biting his lip. "So who's controlling it then?"

"Long story," that she didn't feel like, nor need to, get into as he probably wasn't going to hang around long. Which was rather sad, she kind of missed the company, but she didn't want to be around people right now. She only hurt them in the end.

"But what's it all for, I mean," there went the biting his lip thing again as he smiled a little. "Shop window dummies, what's that about? Is someone trying to take over Britain's shops?" the Doctor couldn't help it, biting down on her tongue only made a little giggle sneak out.

"No,"

"I know," John laughed a little more.

"It's not a price war," they laughed a little more, the Doctor began to enjoy that little happy sound, wondering how long it had felt like since he had laughed. Than she got serious, maybe she could scare him away now. "They want to overthrow the human race and destroy you." Her hearts thudded in the silence. How would he react?

He glanced at her, and she looked back, dark-eyed, "Do you believe me?"

"No," John's eyes flickered though, as if he knew he was lying to himself.

"But you're still listening," she wondered if that was the first glimmer of hope glistening in her mind, the first threads of time coming together before her eyes. But then John looked away, and the Doctor walked on, almost unaware of him stopping but for the absence of warmth on her cool side.

"Really though, Doctor," he paused. "Tell me, who are you?"

The Doctor stopped and looked back, looked at John confused face, his clever brown eyes working the information, and she knew he had a quick mind under that thick mop of spiky brown hair. Maybe for once, someone could understand this; understand him. He seemed to want to more so than the others, they were settled with the 'I'm the Doctor' bit after one question, but John seemed to want to know more.

"Do you know like we were saying? About the Earth revolving?" he looked a little confused as to where this was going. She walked back up to him, ambling a little as she spoke. "It's like when you were a kid. The first time they tell you the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it because everything looks like its standing still." He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, dead serious. "I can feel it." She reached over, and took his hand in hers for a moment, willing him to feel what she felt, how she felt.

""The turn of the Earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling around the sun at sixty-seven thousand miles an hour, and I can feel it. We're falling through space, you and me. Clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, and if we let go..." She let his hand loose, to impress upon the point, but she wasn't quite sure how to finish that sentence. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to.

"That's who I am," she put her hands back in her pockets and gave him an urgently stern look. "Now, forget me, John Smith." She took the plastic arm from his hand and waved it in front of his bemused face with a fake smile. "Go 'ome."

She walked away again, almost wishing he'd call her back, almost glad he didn't. She didn't want him to get involved. There were some people she could just tell that would be persistent and keep showing up though, whether on accident or on purpose, and John was one of them.

She climbed into her police box and disappeared, leaving a much confused John Smith behind her.

"Hey, hey there's my mate!" Mickey grinned. "Where ya been all day?"

"Busy," John muttered.

"With that girl that just come in?" Mickey's grin got wider. "She was kinda cute, pretty rough for you, though, man."

"She, she wasn't, I wasn't…" John sighed, knowing it was virtually impossible to get Mickey off his back by denying it. "Whatever. Can I use your computer?"

"Yeah, sure," Mickey split off into the kitchen. "Don't read my emails!"

"Oh now I really want to see them," John muttered, falling into Mickey's chair and squinting at the screen as he dragged the mouse across the search page. Slipping on his black spectacles, he typed in 'doctor', but there were about 17,000,000 views, and many of them looked mostly like real doctors, not one's that poked about with living plastic things.

John changed his search to 'doctor living plastic', with around 55,300 results, again with plastic surgery and et cetera. He sighed and ruffled his hair impatiently. What else? How to look up a doctor, who wasn't really even a proper one most likely, who popped about in a… a blue box! What was that blue box he had seen earlier? John threw in the words 'blue box' after 'doctor' and searched that.

The first view was labeled 'Doctor Who?' And John knew that must be one, and he clicked it on it quickly. It led to a pale blue webpage with a fuzzy picture in the center, and the photo of a girl who looked remarkably close to the one he had seen earlier, the Doctor. Under the photo, in bold print, was the question 'Have you seen this girl?' and 'contact Clive' under that.


	4. S1E1 Pt4: Contacting Clive

**LSATB**

**Chapter 4: Contacting Clive**

"You're not coming in?" John asked Mickey disbelievingly as the little yellow beetle crept up to the sidewalk. "He's safe; he's got a wife and kids."

"Yeah? Who told you that? He did!" Mickey looked furious and scared all at once. "That's exactly what a lunatic internet murderer would say!" John gave him a look before getting out of the car and jogging up to the house.

Knocking politely, he waited just a little while before a boy came up to the door, squinting up at him oddly.

"Hullo, I've come to see Clive? We've been emailing."

"Oh," the boy nodded, looking apprehensively up and down at John. "Dad! It's one of your nutters!" John smarted a little at being called a nutter, but honestly didn't really mind. He had been called worse.

"Oh, uh, sorry," a big man answered the door, but he had a friendly face and strong handshake, which John took to mean well and he shot a triumphant look back at Mickey, holed up in his little car. "Hello, you must be John, I'm Clive, obviously." He laughed a little, as if nervous.

"So you know, my overprotective friend's waiting in the car, in case you're gonna kill me," John pointed over his shoulder at the cowardly man in their car with a wry grin.

"Ha hah, no, good point," Clive chuckled. "No murders." He waved at Mickey, who still seemed annoyed John had left him behind.

"Who is it?" A female voice called, presumably his wife, John suspected as Clive turned around.

"Oh it's, uh, something to do with the Doctor," Clive turned to call back. "He's been reading the website." He turned back to her. "Please, come through, I'm in the shed." He led John back into the house and Clive's wife came down the stairs with a basket of laundry, closing the door with a smile at her husband's odd peculiarities.

"A lot of this stuff's quite sensitive," Clive explained to John as they picked through the rather dark shed. "I couldn't just send it to yeh; people might intercept it, if yeh know what I mean." Clive turned around to pull something from the shelf as John glanced around.

"Yeh dig deep enough, keep a lively mind, this 'Doctor' keeps croppin' up all over the place." He pulled out a blue folder. "Political diaries, conspiracy theories, even ghost stories. No first name, no last name," he opened the folder to reveal the contents to John, who was already putting on his glasses to look through the folder. "Just, the Doctor. Always the Doctor. And the title seems to be passed down, from generation to generation, it appears to be an inheritance. That's your 'Doctor' there, isn't it?" He pointed to the screen.

"Yeah," John tilted his glasses down his nose, than pushed them back up to look at Clive.

"I tracked it down to the Washington Public Archive just last year," Clive turned around to his folder. "The online photo's enhanced, but, eh, look at the original." Clive revealed that picture had been taken outside, at some sort of parade, in a crowd, and… John's jaw almost dropped to the floor.

The picture had been taken at Kennedy's assassination.

"November 22, 1963, the assassination of President Kennedy," Clive voice was soft and low. "See?"

"Must be her mother," John took the photo and examined it closely, wondering how two people could look so exactly identical.

"Going further back, uh," Clive darted around the desk, agile for a man of his weight, and grabbed another folder. "April 1912." He showed John another picture. "This is a photograph of the Daniels' family of Southampton, and friend," he pointed out the picture of a girl with short black hair and stern face, exact to detail of the Doctor John had met.

"This was taken the day before they were due to sail to the New World, on the Titanic," John glanced up at Clive before focusing on the picture. "And for some unknown reason they canceled the trip and survived. A-and, here we are, uh…" He plucked a paper from a corkboard and handed it over carefully. "1883, another Doctor, and look, it's the same lineage. Identical."

John couldn't believe his eyes, either they had a really strong bloodline, or this doctor could travel through time.

"This one washed up on the coast of Sumatra, on the very day Krakatau exploded," John wrinkled his nose in thought. It seemed like the Doctor showed up with trouble. Did she bring the trouble, though, or did the trouble follow her? That was the question. "The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, she's there. She brings a storm in her wake. And she has one constant companion."

"Who's that?" John asked softly.

"Death," Clive gave John a serious look, very similar to the Doctor's. John felt a shudder run through him, cold and blustery.

"If the Doctor's back," Clive continued, softly fatal, "if you've seen her, John, than one thing's for certain. We're all in danger." John gulped a little, nervously, wetting his lips as he looked over the photos once more for detail.

"If the she's singled you out, the Doctor's making house calls," John decided it wasn't meant to be funny, but couldn't help a small inward smile at the irony, "then God help yeh."

"But, who is she?" John asked, curious as he finished passing through all the photos once more, glasses tilting on the tip of his nose. "Who do you think she is?"

"I think she's the same person," Clive replied, nervous but dead grave. "I think she's immor'al. I think she's an alien from another world." John pursed his lips a little and stared back at the photos, wondering what he himself thought.

John came back out to the car, trying to wrap his mind around what Clive had been saying, trying to think of a way to argue against such solid facts and photos.

"Alright, he's a nutter," it was easy to say, not so easy to believe when the facts were splayed right in front of him. "Off his head, complete online-conspiracy freak." John sighed as he fell into his seat. "You win." He stared out the window, annoyed he hadn't learned much at all, other than a man could fake photos and be incredibly spookily mad.

"You wanna get pizza tonight?" John sighed.

"Pizzaaa! P-p-p-pizza!" Mickey seemed extraordinarily pleased with this, the word as well.

"Or Chinese," John gave him a look. Mickey didn't look right, like something was just… off. John couldn't really tell what, though.

"Pizza!" John didn't seem to notice much more though as the car drove off in a wobbly line. How could he complain? He wasn't a very good driver himself.

The pizza shop smelled good, like tomatoes and pepperoni and cheese.

"Maybe she'd be at an hospital," John joked a little, seriously wondering where the Doctor could be found though for a moment. "Suppose I have to go back to school tomorrow though, anyways. I suppose that's it then, back to school and college and the planets without actually ever reaching them…"

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "S'why I took astrophysics, hoped maybe I could get into space. Doubt it now, though. I'm probably not near smart enough, and I mean look at me. Not exactly fit for it, either… not my fault I can't gain muscle mass… I'm only good at running."

"So where did you meet this 'Doctor'?" Mickey asked immediately, suddenly bright-eyed and he zoomed in on John.

"Oh, sorry, was I talking about me for a second?" John stared at him oddly.

"'Cos I reckon it all started back at the shop, am I right? Is she somethin' to do with that?"

"No,"

"C'mon," now John knew how it felt like when a woman was being raped, it felt like Mickey was trying to push him into telling him something, and that wasn't Mickey at all.

"Sort of," John shifted. "Look, does it matter? I-"

"What was she doin' there?"

"I'm not going on about it, Mickey really I'm not," John ruffled his hair anxiously. "I know it sounds daft but… I don't think she's safe. She's dangerous." If she was half as mad as Clive made him out to be, then she most certainly still was dodgy.

"But you can trust me, John," John noticed then, Mickey was blinking. "Mate, man, Boss, John," His voice seemed to shift as they went through all of Mickey's weird nicknames for me, his head twitching. "You can tell me anything, tell me about the Doctor and what she's plannin' and I can help you, John. 'Cuz that's what I really want to do, Boss, mate, man, John."

"What are you doing that for?" John frowned, staring at Mickey oddly.

"Your champagne," a smooth waitress' voice interrupted us.

"We didn't order any champagne," Mickey drove her off coldly without so much as glancing up. "Where's the Doctor?" Mickey's unblinking eyes were shooting daggers into John's eyes.

"Ah, your champagne,"

"It's, it's not ours," John waved her away impatiently, not even looking up. "Mickey, what is it, what's wrong?"

"I need to find out how much he knows, so where is she?"

"Doesn't anybody want this champagne?" the voice reminded John of someone, and the humor was similar as well, but right at that moment, he didn't care. Mickey was acting strangely and threateningly; it was rather off-putting.

"Look, we didn't order…" Mickey looked up and stopped, shocked, John glanced up as well and nearly smiled when he saw the Doctor's face. He was pretty certain he didn't normally feel this smile-y around any other girls. There was just something about her that made him want to grin.

"Ah, gotcha," Mickey grinned slowly.

"Don't mind me," she winked at John, shaking the champagne bottle roughly. "Just toastin'… well, who needs a reason for alcohol?" Turning to Mickey, she loosened the bung, "On the house!"

She popped the cork so it flung itself straight into Mickey's forehead. To John shock, it sunk in, like a rock falling in pool with the sound of rubber stretching. Mickey rolled the lid in his mouth for a moment, contemplatively, then spat the cork out his mouth and stood.

"Anyway," Mickey pushed off, his hand transforming into a giant dustbin-shaped pan as he smashed it down on the table. John jumped up away from the table as it fell to pieces, about to run out of the restaurant when he turned back to see the Doctor pulling at Mickey's head, laying him flat out on the floor so he couldn't move under her.

Suddenly, Mickey's head popped off like an abused Barbie doll, and the Doctor was flung across the room as the body stood.

"Don't fink that's gonna stop me," the head spat out, startling a nearby couple into screaming. Or, rather, the man of the couple into screaming. John stared, wide-eyed at the confusion as he thought what to do… he glanced at a fire alarm and hurriedly pressed it.

"Everyone out, out now!" he shouted above the ringing of the alarms, as he and the Doctor took a back exit, leaving the body to follow them out into the street. John ran to the end of the alley, slamming on the gates in front of him with a frustrated cry.

"Open the gates!" he shouted to the Doctor, looking over at her as he tugged on the lock. "Use that, that tube thing!"

"Sonic screwdriver," she replied calmly, holding it up before pocketing it and, taking the head under her arm, walked towards him.

"Use it!" John could still imagine that body waling on the door behind them, bending metal under its force.

"Nah," how could she be so flippant? "Tell you what, let's go in here." John watched in amazement as she stepped up to a… blue box. How had he not noticed that? How had he just run past a nine-foot-tall blue box that obviously didn't belong there? She fished a small key from her leather coat's pocket and opened the door, stepping inside.

John could still see the dents being made by a creature that was slowly breaking down the door, heart racing in his throat.

"We can't hide inside a wooden box!" he shouted, not admitting to the trembling in his hands as he tried tugging on the lock again. "It's gonna get us! Doctor!" With a frustrated groan, he ran over to the box and pulled open the door, flinging himself inside before realizing… oh my god.

He hurriedly ran out of the box and stared it up and down, felt along the edges, smacked his hand against the blue wood, reassuring himself of its woody-nature, and ran around it in circles. The creature banging on the door finally made a breakthrough, and his hand made an appearance through the door.

"Heeeere's Johnny," John muttered to himself, wide-eyed, as he ran back into the blue box.


	5. S1E1 Pt5: The Blue Box

**Sorry this took a while to post, I've been in Washington D.C for three days on a field trip for school. Obviously, I didn't really have time to write what with the 6-7 mile walking we did every day. Although the Metro was fun to ride on, made me feel like Rose on the tube or something.**

**Disclaimer, yada yada, no one care's, let's get to the episode.**

**Chapter 5: The Blue Box**

The contents of its glowing gold innards spilled out far past where they should, coral arms spiraling up to hold a domed roof and gave off a very organic feel. John paused a moment to wonder if, somehow, this box was alive. He shook his head to clear his mind of such stupid thoughts, and he was blinded by the lights that shone out everywhere. A desk, glowing sea green, surrounded a long clear tube that also glowed pulsing sea foam green, and a ramp led up to the grated metal floor that held up the desk.

If that was all that was in the room, John still would've, and rightfully so, been amazed. But if he scrutinized the room, he saw corridors branching off from this one, hidden in the shadowy corners of the large, circular room.

"It's gonna follow us!" John glanced back at the door. It was still wood on the outside, though, right? But it couldn't be, this was… this was a free-folding tesseract design. No way was this possible, how did she manage to make this, or find it, or steal it from some government agency? Where did she get this?

"The assembled 'ordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door," she bustled around the desk, oblivious to John's staring around. "'n believe me, they've tried. Now shut up a minute," never mind that John could hardly speak at all the impossibilities he had seen today. "Y'see the arm, is too simple, but a head's perfect. I can use it to trace the signal back to the original source." She put the head on the desk and attached cables to it, then turned to face John.

"Right," John turned his eyes back on her, where she stood at the end of the ramp, hands in her pockets, fighting a smirk off her face. "Where d'ya wanna start?"

"Um, the inside's bigger than the outside?" John mentally kicked himself, so much for studying so hard and being so brilliant, he manages to come up with the obvious in every situation.

"Yes,"

"It's, it's alien," John finally decided, knowing it was impossible for anyone on earth to have this sort of ability.

"Yup," she nodded, staring at him, hands in her pockets, as if making sure he got this point very accurate. John's heart skipped a little as he thought was this must mean.

"You're an alien," John stated, knowing he was right.

"Yes," she whispered, than voiced louder, "is that alright?"

"Yeah," John replied quickly, almost too fast, but he looked at her with honesty in his eyes.

"It's called the TARDIS, this thing," she gestured around with her eyes and head, twisting a little bit. "T-A-R-D-I-S, that's Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"So, it's a time machine," John laughed a little, glancing around. "What with time and dimension in its name, I assume it can travel through time and space?"

"Yup," the Doctor nodded, than John's day began to catch up with him and he took another look at Mickey's head on the console.

"Wh-what happened to the real Mickey?" he shuddered, forcing back emotion from his voice. His eyes were mercifully dry, though. "I mean, is he… y'know… dead?"

"Oh," her brow furrowed over her eyes. "I didn't think of that."

"He's my mate," John bit out. "You… pulled off his head… they copied him, and you didn't even think?" A bubbling sound started behind the Doctor and John's fury worsened. "And now you're just gonna let him melt?"

"Melt?" The Doctor turned wildly, staring at the slowly melting features of the doll-Mickey. "Oh no, no, no, no, no, NO!" She pulled at her black hair before dashing about the consoles, grabbing levers and pushing buttons, cranking handles and pumping.

"What're you doing?" John stared at her antics as she tumbled between jumping with excitement and screaming in annoyance. The whole machine was thrumming, howling in a blustery sort of noise.

"Reviving the signal, its fading!" she glanced at the screen and groaned once more. "No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" She yanked on something. "Almost there, almost there! Here we go!" And the whole machine faded its noise as the Doctor dashed past John on the ramp and threw open the doors.

"Wait, what're you doing?" John shouted, running down the ramp as well, quite forgetting he was in a time and space machine. "It's not sa-" He tripped and stumbled onto the sidewalk, glancing around the street in perplexed fear, which slowly devolved to confusion.

He stood outside the London Eye, near the Thames. Oh, right, time _and _space.

"I lost the signal, I got so close!" the Doctor fumed to herself, punching air with a moan of dissatisfaction. She glanced back and saw his confusion. "Disappears there, reappears here, y'wouldn't understand," she sneered a little, turning back to the embankment.

"But what about that headless thing? It's still on the loose…" John limply pointed over his shoulder, obviously meaning 'back there' when, technically, it wasn't.

"Melted with the head, are you gonna witter on all night?" she scathed, obviously past annoyed and now more ticked off than anything else.

"I'll have to tell his mother," John tilted his head to the side, still numb from the events, thinking how he was going to do that. How would he explain all this…? He noticed the Doctor looking at him confused. "Mickey. I'll have to tell his mother he's dead and you just went and forgot him, again!" She rolled her eyes and John straightened, angered. "You are right, you are an alien." He made to walk away when the Doctor spoke again, bitterness clouding her voice as well.

"Look, even if I did forget some kid called Mickey…"

"Yeah, he's not a kid!" John turned, furious.

"…it was because I was busy trying to save the life of every stupid ape blundering about on top of this planet, alright?"

"Alright?"

"Yes, it is!" John stared at her in bemusement and fading anger; she really didn't care, but if she was right, then one person for all the planet… but it was still Mickey, still John's best friend for the good part of his life.

_Why was she trying to save this planet_, John suddenly thought. She didn't have any attachment to it; she wasn't born here, obviously. John realized she must've picked up an accent, so she'd been here a while. She had become attached to this planet too, must have; it was the only reason she might risk her life for it and become so 'damn-everything' to save it. But he asked anyways.

"If you are an alien, why do you sound like you're from the North?"

"Lots of planets have a North!" she cried back defensively, crossing her arms and looking away embarrassedly.

"What's a police public call box?" John asked, staring up at the glowing words.

"It's a telephone box from the 1950's," she grinned a little, a real one, as she petted the machine fondly, stroking the corners lovingly. "It's a disguise."

"Whatever," but John grinned at the Doctor's love for this strange little-big machine, never mind that a box from the 1950's would stand out in pretty much everywhere except 1950's London. "And this, this living-plastic thing, what's it got against us?"

"Nothin', it loves ya," the Doctor stepped away from the TARDIS with a final pat to its side. "You've got such a good planet. Lots of smoke and oil, plenty of toxins and dioxins in the air... perfect. Just what the Nestene Consciousness needs. Its food stock was destroyed in the war, all its protein plants rotted, so Earth... dinner!" She mimed eating with a grin on her face as she stepped closer.

"Anyway of stopping it?" John asked, leaning against the TARDIS.

"Anti-plastic," she pulled a long, thin tube of dark blue liquid from her coat.

"Anti-plastic," John studied it, knowing for certain that it must be a rather silly nickname for some long complicated string of consonants of a scientific name, but the Doctor didn't supply one.

"Anti-plastic!" the Doctor delighted in showing off her tube, running a finger quickly along the side of it. Than she grew serious, staring out over the Thames. "But first I've got to find it. How could you hide something that big in city this small?" She walked away to the Thames again.

"Hold on, hide what?" John shook his head confusedly.

"The transmitter," the Doctor turned back to him, frowning slightly. "The Consciousness is controlling every single piece of plastic so it needs a transmitter to boost the signal."

"What's it look like?" The Doctor seemed little surprised he asked, but inside she was wondering if he really wanted to get involved.

"Like a transmitter," oh that helped a lot, John raised an eyebrow as he turned to follow the Doctor's rambling path. "Round, massive, somewhere slap bang in the middle a'London. A huge, metal circular structure, like a dish, like a wheel! Close to where we're standing. Must be completely invisible." John looked behind her, an amused smile creeping onto his lips. The Doctor noted his pleased expression.

"What?" John tilted his head to look over her shoulder. Nonplussed, she turned around, a strange look on her face as she turned back to him. "What?"

With a sigh, John turned her around by the shoulders and pointed at the London Eye very clearly. "Oh..." she grinned, a spark flying into her eyes. "Fantastic!" And she dashed off, leaving John to follow or not. John, of course, ran after her and grabbed her hand. Just so he didn't lose her. That's it.


	6. S1E1 Pt6: the Nestene Consciousness

**LSATB**

**Chapter 6: The Nestene Consciousness**

"Think of it, plastic, all over the world. Every artificial thing waiting to come alive," the Doctor panted a little, glancing around as she listed. "The shop window dummies, the phones, the wires, the cables..."

"The fake plants," John grinned a little, imaging shrubberies, well, _shrubbing_ across London. The Doctor spared a hint of a real smile, a small barking laugh.

"Still, we've found the transmitter," she glanced behind them at the towering circle of the London Eye, gleaming over them. "The Consciousness must be somewhere underneath." John looked around and dashed over to the side of the wall, looking down at a manhole.

"What about down here?"

"Looks good to me," they both tumbled down the steps and John twisted open the manhole, pulling it aside to reveal clouds of red pushing out into the night air. They crept down the ladder into a metal hallway of heat and stink. It smelled like burning plastic. John wrinkled his nose but followed the Doctor tenaciously, making sure to keep her in sight.

They stepped onto a metal balcony, overlooking a pool of hot yellow and orange, like the sun had fallen into a hole. It smelled like it, too, John thought, staring at the pool.

"The Nestene Consciousness," the Doctor introduced John to the writhing lake of heat and lava-like plastic. "That's it, inside the vat, a living plastic creature."

"Well what're you gonna do? Tip in the anti-plastic and run?" John leaned over the balcony.

"Can't kill it," she replied shortly, walking over to the metal steps. "Gotta give it a chance." The creature mumbled and groaned to itself, as if sensing the presence of intruders. Which it probably could, not that the Doctor was telling John that.

"I seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract," she paused. "According to convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation." The creature rose up in a wave, hissing and groaning. "Thank you," John glanced at the Doctor. How did she understand that? Well, she seemed to be some sort of ambassador for this Shadow Proclamation people, so he assumed she'd know some languages.

"If I might have permission to approach?"

As the Doctor spoke, John crept around down the stairs some more, and caught a glimpse of frightened eyes. It was Mickey!

"Oh my…" he ran down the last of the steps, missing the Doctor's rolled eyes, and knelt near his shuddering friend. "It's me, Mickey," John whispered as she looked at the sweat covering Mickey's face and body. He must've been here for ages. "It's okay, it's alright!"

"That things down there… the liquid, John," Mickey pointed, eyes white around the dark of his pupils as he shivered and shuddered. "It can talk…"

"You're stinking!" John pulled back, trying to joke. "Doctor, they kept him alive!"

"Yeah that was always a possibility," she brushed them off, jumping down the steps hurriedly, not caring. "Keep him alive to maintain the copy."

"You knew that and you never said?"

"Can we keep the domestics outside, thank you?" she gave them both a disgusted look and continued down the steps. John sputtered a little, helping Mickey up before following the Doctor down the steps, intending to snarl back an answer at her, when the Doctor began to address the vat once more.

"Am I addressing the Consciousness?" she asked politely, far different from how she treated him and Mickey, John thought grumpily. "Thank you. If I might observe, you infiltrated this civilization by means of warped, shunt technology. So, may I suggest with the greatest respect that you shunt off?" John hid a smirk. So she treated other aliens no other way; she was just rude, it wasn't just them.

The glob of lava rose higher, blubbering in raspy tones that he was in no such way 'shunting off' as the Doctor so kindly put it. It was obvious without a translation the creature was objecting to the charges.

"Oh don't give me that," she scoffed angrily. "This's an invasion! Plain and simple, don't talk about constitutional rights." The lava pool writhed once more, growling and bubbling.

"I. Am. TALKING!" she shouted at the creature, stern strength in her voice and face as she held back a scowl. Why did no one ever listen to her? "This planet is just starting, these, stupid little people have only just learned how to walk…" John frowned. People had been upright for a very long time, thank you very much! Maybe she just liked to make fun at humans.

"But they're capable of so much more!" Was that a compliment? John bean to wonder if he could take anything she said seriously. "I'm asking on their behalf, please, just go…"

"Doctor!" John shouted worriedly as he spotted two plastic dummies creeping up on the Doctor and grabbing her by the arms. The Doctor struggled against their tight grips, throwing a look up at John that didn't say 'help me' but 'get out of here'. A dummy held her while the other pulled out the anti-plastic.

"That was just insurance!" she shouted desperately over the living plastic's furious cries of rage. "I wasn't gonna use it!" The dummy stumbled away backwards, holding out the tube as the other led the Doctor closer to the edge of the platform where the arm of orange and yellow contorted and wheezed and screamed at her.

"I wasn't attacking you, I'm here to help," the Doctor continued, pleading with the creature. "I'm not your enemy, I swear, I'm no'." The outreaching lava puddle only screeched more and the Doctor's face took on a more panicked look.

"What do you mean? No!" The TARDIS' blue form was shown from behind a sliding panel. "Oh no, honestly, no!" the plastic creature howled triumphantly. "Yes, that's my ship…" She looked back at the box in horror, then back at the creature. "That's not true! I should know - I was there! I fought in the war, it wasn't my fault!"

The creature squealed horribly once more.

"I couldn't save your world - I couldn't save any of them!" Her voice broke and trembled as she regained strength to talk, fighting against the pushing dummy behind her.

"What's it doing?" John shouted down to her, worried about the change of events. What was she on about? Saving worlds, not saving planets, what war? Was this the war she'd mentioned earlier?

"It's the TARDIS," the Doctor explained, her voice still weak and wet. "The Nestene's identified its superior technology; it's terrified! It's going to the final base. It's starting the invasion! Get out, John! Just leg it! Now!" John stared at the dummies, at the Doctor, at the Nestene Consciousness, at Mickey, still huddled on the floor and grabbing his leg. Blue lightning tore from the Consciousness and ripped its way up to the ceiling, glowing and sparking furiously as it burst open a tile in the ceiling.

"It's the activation signal!" the Doctor shouted frantically. "It's transmitting!"

"The end of the world," John murmured, wondering how everything plastic would come alive and tear down the inhabitants of the earth. Every plastic coated wire, every plastic things, destroying their former owners. Every shop window dummy coming alive to kill humans.


	7. S1E1 Pt7:Not Quite the End

**Chapter 7: The End (It Really Isn't Though)**

"Get out, John!" the Doctor wondered if she wasn't being clear enough, if he couldn't hear her, because he was just staring back in fear. "Just get out! Run!" The ceiling crumbled in and blocked the steps.

"The stairs've gone!" John shouted back, glancing around for another escape. John tumbled back down the steps with Mickey in tow, yanking at the doors of the TARDIS.

"I haven't got the key!" Then John realized something. He stared at the Doctor, than at the wall.

"We're gonna die!" Mickey moaned, and John felt a spark of annoyance at Mickey's pessimistic attitude. John found what he was looking for, what was in here, because they always were in the movies. He knew he had to find a way out, and the Doctor was their only help. She looked over her shoulder at him, worry for John, not herself. And Mickey was being a jerk again.

"Just leave her!" To what? Their same fate? "There's nothing you can do!" Really? Not if John could stop it. He ran to where he had seen their escape. He grabbed the axe and hefted in his hands experimentally. then he shifted around and faced the plastic dummies with the beginnings of a manic grin lighting his face.

"Not exactly used to this, but," he muttered to himself, raising the butt of the axe and pile-driving it into dummy holding the anti-plastic. The Doctor grabbed the other dummy by the arm and tossed it off her with a superhuman strength. No one wanted to stick around to see what would happen, really, but the scene before them was grotesquely fascinating.

The anti-plastic broke open into the Consciousness, and it screamed out in pain, writhing like a large animal under a blanket of orange rubber. The shrieks of agony shrilled through the watchers, sparking their next movements into action.

Scrambling to get away from the fog and steam rising around them, John hurriedly follwoed the Doctor up to the TARDIS, glancing over his shoulder at the struggling creature. Despite the fact it had been about to kill them all, really, it was a little pathetic and vaguely inhumane feeling to just, leave it. But the air was progressively getting thicker and hotter as a damp sweat covered John's skin and slithered down his back. The room began exploding and falling to pieces around them, shrapnel from the metal pipes combusitng rang throuhg the air to cut through the walkways and gratings.

The Doctor fumbled the key, but hurriedly unlocked the door, and they all stumbled in, John looking over his shoulder at the Nestene before the Doctor yanked him in. As soon as the odors shut, the noise outside ceased, as if it had never been, and the TARDIS disappeared with its usual 'vworrp, vworrp' sound.

Mickey pushed out of the TARDIS, skittering into the street before turning and falling to stare at the TARDIS in disbelieving horror. John came out a little while after, frowning at the texts from his classmates' reactions to the dummies. Many were texts sent out to everyone, asking who was all right and such. He stuffed it back in his pocket. He had no answer for them. What was he going to say?

_Oh, yeah, I was w/ the person who started it all. An alien! Cool, see ya guys tmrrw! TTYL_

No, wasn't gonna happen.

"Fat lot of good you were," he hauled Mickey off the sidewalk cheerfully as Mickey whimpered.

"Nestene consciousness?" the Doctor snapped her fingers with a broad grin. "Easy."

"You were useless in there," John cocked an eyebrow provokingly, in his head stating that she had really only made things worse. "You'd be dead if it weren't for me."

"Yeah, I would," she admitted, slightly grudgingly, fidgeting a little. "Thank you." John only nodded a little. "Right then!" the Doctor cheered up a bit. "I'll be off! John's heart sank a little at that. But what had he expected?

"Unless, uh…" What? John waited. "I dunno… You could come with me?" John's eyes widened, his heart skipped a beat in his chest… then he saw Mickey out the corner of his eyes, huddled by a bit of driftwood, eyes a mile away. He remembered his classes, his friends, his responsibilities that would always drag him down….

"This box isn't just a London hopper, y'know, it goes anywhere in the universe, free of charge," the Doctor looked at him hopefully, begging him silently in her head to come, to please come. She fancied she already missed his hand around hers. But that was just a fancy.

"Don't," Mickey's voice broke the moment, quivering and wet with tears of terror. "She's an alien, she's, she's a thing!"

"He's not invited," she gave Mickey a sharp nod, eyes locked on John. "What'd you think?" She bounced on her toes, pressing her lips together in a way she wondered if it didn't look too hopeful.

"You could stay here, fill your life with work and food and sleep or you could go, uh," she paused, eyes sparkling, "anywhere."

"Is it always this dangerous?" John asked hesitantly, knowing the answer almost immediately.

"Oh yes," her grin only widened, though, if possible, and her eyes glittered with a frenzy of what was to come if he should choose to come. Then Mickey's hand grabbed his leg and startled John from this fantasy he was already creating of escaping earth's gravity.

"Y-yeah, I, I can't," John sighed, pushing Mickey off with a fake smile on the injured party. "Gotta take care of this stupid lump here, and, well, you know... stupid earth... stuff..."

"Okay," she murmured after a pause. "See ya 'round," she smiled tightly, but didn't disappear into her machine for a little while, only staring at John with sad eyes. Than she turned back inside and shut the door behind her slowly.

The TARDIS faded out with its usual keening sound of time and space ripping to make room for a tall blue box and a mad girl, keeping all of space and time together by the skin of her teeth.

It took John a moment to realize it, that she was truly gone, probably forever.

"C'mon, let's go," he mumbled to Mickey, yanking him off the sidewalk with numb arms, wondering at the sensation of loss he felt so deeply in his chest, like someone had ripped out his lungs and replaced them with a vacuum. Like he was breathing into a paper bag. "C'mon…" he didn't really blame Mickey, but he silently cursed himself for letting the chance slip away, letting her slip away like that.

Then, the sound picked up once more. John turned around to face the blue box, coming back into being, as bags and papers flew about in the whirlwind it started. Grinning broadly, John watched as the door of the TARDIS creaked open once more, her face set and determined.

She'd just seen her timelines waver when he said no, and she had walked away, they just fizzled and went dead. She knew she wasn't going anywhere without him, and the TARDIS wouldn't let her. Her hearts beat solitarily in her chest as she tried once more.

"By the way, did I mention," she began brightly, "it also travels in time?" she backed away into the TARDIS, knowing he'd follow, not caring she sounded too hopeful. For some reason, she had latched onto this brown and white human, with all his strange words and stupid-ape thoughts, he was somehow right in her world of wrong.

And then he was in there, in her TARDIS, and he was grinning at her so broadly.

"Welcome aboard, John Smith," she grinned, hands stuffed in her pockets. "Fancy a trip?"

**So, the end of this episode! Oh dear... I haven't really gotten the next episode ready... I barely even like the beginning chapter... bugger...**

**Um, look! It's a distracting review button! Press it! Go on, it won't bite!... much, I dunno...**


	8. S1E2 Pt1: Hold On, John Smith

**LSATB : S1E2: The End of the World**

**Chapter 1: Hold On, John Smith**

"Right then, John Smith, you tell me," the Doctor tossed a golden ball in one hand, staring at him with energy crackling in her blue eyes as her fingers danced out a rapid beat on the desk. "Where do you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time? It's your choice; what's it gonna be?"

"Forwards, onwards and upwards and all," John didn't care, so long as it was somewhere, any where new and different. His heart sped in his throat as the Doctor gave him a wide grin and plugged in the strange little gold ball on the glowing green console, the one she'd been tossing to herself absentmindedly. Her hands moved rapidly from that to a blue toggle, a little yellow switch, and then she stood and looked at him, a smirk on her lips.

"How far?"

"A hundred years," he shrugged, wondering what would happen in a hundred years. Would people be flying to the moon on vacations yet? She spun a thin wheel with the palm of her hand and straightened once more to yank on a pulley, and twist a strange knobby thing before the TARDIS gave off its groaning hum and shook itself, straining almost.

After a short while, she twisted the knob again.

"There ya go," she proclaimed, pointing at the doors proudly. "Step out those doors, yer in the 22nd century."

"You're joshing," John took a quick glance over his shoulder at the doors in amazement.

"That's a bit boring, though," she wrinkled her nose playfully. "D'ya wanna go further?"

"Sounds brilliant," John grinned, watching her spin the wheel once more, faster, until she stopped it suddenly to pump a lever. John turned his eyes momentarily to look at the TARDIS' singing central tube once more, before returning his eyes to the amazing alien (he couldn't believe this, almost, if not for her… well… she was just different) who had invited him along.

"Ten thousand years in the future," she grinned, her voice slick with excited anticipation at his reaction, nodding proudly. "Step outside it's the year 12,005, the new Roman Empire."

"You think you're so impressive," John grinned back at her attitude that only she could do this, only she could travel in time and space, only she could be so clever and brilliant.

"I am so impressive!" she shot back, offended, looking at him with playful-hurt in her eyes.

"I'll bet," John teased, unable to keep from smirking. "Why don't you show something really impressive to me, then?"

"Right then," she dashed her tongue out quick to wet her lips, a manically exhilarated look on her face. "You asked for it, I know exactly where to go." Her eyes burst with a little of insanity before she dashed the wheel nearly to pieces, rolling it under her palm, pumped the black lever, and spun the knobby thing.

"Hold on!" she cried as John spread his hands out over the controls, feeling a surge of warmth flood through him, and a song singing very softly behind all the whining and groaning of the machine.

The shaking of the ship ended with the clang of a tiny bell. All was silent, and it was an almost eerie quiet. John glanced about, an apprehensive curiousity pricking his skin with cold needles, but he was too excited to care.

"Where are we?" John asked, slightly cautiously, mostly interestedly. The Doctor didn't reply, only holding out a hand with a half-smile creeping onto her face. John turned towards the doors, his coat swinging behind him as he looked at the doors, then turned back to her, hardly able to keep his grin out of his voice, "What's out there?"

She didn't seem inclined to say, only giving him a look that clearly said, 'Well you won't find out just standing here'. John moved towards the doors, heart racing loudly on the back of his tongue as he grasped the handle of the door for a moment, than stepped out of the machine into…

The room was pale yellow, with large metal vents in the wall and the paneling of some strange wood-like material. Sconces on the wall held small yellow lights, and the blocks of the steps glowed white. But that was nothing next to the view which John's eyes were transfixed upon.

A paneling in the wall opened to reveal the earth. Stretched blue and white under them, John assumed they were in space, and couldn't help but grin wildly at that. He saw the sun, bursting yellow and orange, with a halo of light shining around it as it pulsed in the black void of space.

"You lot," the Doctor tramped down the steps, hands crossed over her chest as she stood next to John, "Y'spend all your time thinkin' about dyin'. Like yer gonna get killed by eggs or beef or global warmin' or asteroids. But you never take time to imagine the impossible. Maybe you survive." She paused as John stared out into space, watching the strange glow of the earth, the blues and whites, the faint greens and yellows of the planet's land underneath the swirling clouds.

"This is the year 5.5/apple/26, 5 billion years in your future. And this is the day – hold on –" she glanced at her watch, John's eyes following, then both turned their eyes back to the viewing screen, just in time to watch the sun's light explode into a fiery ball, reaching out into the darkness of space, gasping for kindling to fuel it. The sun went hollow and orange, spotty and almost evil looking as it reached out hungry arms towards the earth.

"This is the day the sun expands," the Doctor looked at John seriously, simply. "Welcome to the end of the world." John glanced at her, blinking, than back at the screen, hardly able to take in what had just happened.


	9. S1E2 Pt2: Greetings from the Aliens

**Hope it's long enough, sorry for the incredibly long wait, a mix of bad excuses and laziness later though, and this is up. Hopefully, I should be able to get the next chapter up quicker.**

**LSATB: S1E2: The End of the World Chapter 2: Greetings from the Aliens**

John ambled beside the Doctor, eyes glancing every which way to take it all in. Her eyes watched him, amused, as the human gaped and gawked. She loved this part: the first day, first new planet, first real adventure. Their eyes got so huge, almost as big as their mouth as all those delightful first questions popped out.

Of course, the first ones were always about the TARDIS, but the Doctor wanted to hear John's thoughts about everything. It had been so long since she had had a companion, and, to be honest, she was a little scared she had traumatized him with having the first new thing he see be the destruction of his planet.

"So, when it says 'guests' does that mean people?" John asked abruptly, wondering curiously if there were aliens like he thought there could be.

"Well that depends what you mean by people," the Doctor replied cheerfully but cryptically, as per usual. John rolled his eyes.

"I mean people," he paused, eyes brightening with what the Doctor was implying. "What do you mean?"

"Aliens," she shrugged, pretending it was no big thing. Aliens? Yeah, my next-door neighbor s one.

"What're they all doing here?" John wrinkled his nose, glancing about even more, wide brown eyes curious and trying to understand absolutely everything. "What's it all for?"

The Doctor bent, sweeping the glare of the sonic screwdriver over the door's mechanisms.

"Watch the earth get burnt." John blinked. Why would anyone want to see a planet die? What kind of sick people would hang around a dying star that's going to explode and take out planets with its own death?

The door swept open and they entered a much bigger observation gallery. The Doctor tucked away her screwdriver and put her thumbs in the pockets of her leather coat.

"Mind you, it's only the rich here," she added, as if it really mattered. It was expensive to come see a planet die? John was feeling a mixture of revulsion and curiosity. It would be like if he shelled up a couple thousand pounds to see a war.

"The sun expanding," John frowned. "That's supposed to take... millions of years."

"Yup," the Doctor nodded. "But the planet's now property of the National Trust. They've been keeping it preserved. See down there?" She pointed at the tiny glints of light orbiting the earth. John peered closer. "Gravity satellite. That's holding back the sun."

John could've been amazed by the fact the earth's continents hadn't shifted, but he was another question that seemed less... well... stupid. "That must take... how does it hold back the sun?" The Doctor grinned, than shrugged.

"Magic," was the false answer, but to be perfectly honest, the Doctor didn't know and didn't really care. It was boring to her, leave the pushing away and aversion of the inevitable to the 20th century French and turtles hiding under their shells.

"What about the continents shifting?" John asked dubiously, wondering if the Doctor would ever give him a proper answer. "They shift over time, right?"

"Course they do," the Doctor shrugged, then pointed back to the satellites. "The Trust shifted them back. That's classic Earth." She walked away, a familiar pang in her stomach. "But now the money's run out, nature takes over." She cleared away the stone in her throat and took John away from the window. She didn't really want to see another planet getting blown up.

"How long has it got?" John peered over his shoulder as the Doctor practically muscled him away from the window.

"'Bout half an hour," the Doctor glanced at her watch. "And then the planet gets roasted." Her eyebrows jumped, as if in excitement, but that was the last thing she felt about the death of a planet.

"But you jump in, right?" John smiled a little, eyebrows furrowing over his dark eyes as he watched her back go rigid and unresponsive. "That's what you do. Save the Earth at the last minute?"

"No," her voice is low, soft. John blinked, confused. Isn't that what she had done last time? Saved the planet? And now she was just... going to let it burn? "I'm not saving it. Time's up."

"B-But what about the people?" John tried not to get angry. The people she was just defending to the last huge creature that was going to destroy the earth, the people she seemed to want nothing to do with but loved them at the same time. She was just going to let them burn?

"It's empty," it made it no better to the Doctor, that just meant at least no one was dying, but it was still a burning planet. The people would have no home to come back to, no planet that made them all humans together. "All gone, all left."

The blankness in her tone made John pause, as well as feel a little awkward and out of line. She hadn't been avoiding saving the humans, there were no humans left on the planet. What was the point of saving an empty planet when it was going to die and there was really not much she could about it?

"Just me then," he shrugged, wondering where all the other humans had gone off to, wondering if they had changed by now. 5 billion years. Evolution must've had a field day on the human race. Not that John necessarily believed in evolution, there were too many holes in the theory for him to think it could be the only answer. Sure, the slow adaptation of a creature to its surroundings... but physically changing over time? With mutations, which are more often dangerous to a creature than helpful? It didn't really make logical sense to John, but nothing else did either.

A blue man in a golden robe hurried over to them, his face a picture of stressed anger, "Who the hell are you?"

"Oh! That's nice, thanks," the Doctor's demeanor immediately went from gloomy to excited at the sight of the alien. John's jaw tried hard to drop at the strange sight of the furious alien, but he was too shocked for even that.

"B-But how did you get in?" John smiled at this, realizing many people and aliens must ask her this. How did she answer each time, he couldn t help but wonder. "This is a maximum hospitality zone. The guests have disembarked! They're on their way any second now!"

"That's me, I'm a guest, look!" she flashed out a black billfold with the widest, fakest smile John had seen on her thus far. "I've got an invitation! Look, there you see? It's fine, see? The Doctor plus one. I'm the Doctor, this is John Smith. He's my plus one." The Doctor paused, fake concern on her elfin features as she clacked her tongue in mock distress over her teeth. "That alright?"

John had a feeling, even if it wasn't alright, the Doctor would continue doing what she did best.

Annoying and charming her way into everyone's graces.

"Well..." the blue man hesitated, blinded by the Doctor's wide beam and thrown off by the appearance of a registered ticket. "Obviously." Better safe than sorry, he thought to himself with a sigh. "Apologies, et cetera... If you're on-board, we'd better start. Enjoy." Nodding, the blue steward hurried off, looking very agitated by this disruption of events. In fact, he very much was agitated. Surprises like these did not bode well for the rest of the itinerary of the evening...

Watching the steward worry over himself reminded John oddly of Winnie the Pooh, muttering 'oh dear, oh dear, oh dear' under his breath. Unless that was Rabbit... or the White Rabbit...

"What's that?" John peered over the Doctor's shoulder to see the billfold she had flashed at the steward. Was it really an invite, or did she have a coupon or newspaper clipping that just fooled everyone into thinking she was invited?

"Oi, stop being taller than me," she snapped playfully at him before revealing the blank paper in the wallet. "Psychic paper. Shows them whatever I want 'em to see. Saves a lot of time." John nodded, processing this.

"And, he's blue," John frowned a little. Was that natural?

"Yup," she popped the 'p', smiling a little.

"Oh-kay," John tilted his head, wondering what other aliens looked like. Were they all humanoid but with different coloured skin? Or...

"We have in attendance, the Doctor and John Smith," the steward spoke through a microphone, which seemed highly unnecessary as there was no one else in the room. "Thank you! All staff to their positions."

From nowhere, hordes of little blue people - which, unfortunately, made John irretrievably think of Oompa Loompas - streamed from all sdes of the room, tromping off, presumably to wherever they were needed. John watched them, barely stifling little giggles as he hummed an applicable song to himself, unsure whether they were more like munchkins or Oompa-Loompas. The Doctor glanced at John, almost laughing at the human's obvious delight of the small aliens, and was unsure whether to tell him to stop or join in on his humming.

"Hurry now! Thank you, as quick as we can! Come along, come along!" The steward encouraged the workers along, rushing them out of the main receiving room. "And now, might I introduce the next honoured guest, representing the forest of Cheem, we have Trees." Trees? John thought, blinking. Were they alive? Yes. "Namely, Jabe, Lute, and Coffa."

Three aliens, skin olive in colour and bark-like, but humanoid in shape, glided across the floor, two dressed in armour-like coverings, while the first striding forward was obviously female and dressed in fineries. Her face was smooth and her eyes dark and her smile sweet, John found himself staring at her in particular.

The Doctor glanced at John, then followed the direction of his eyes to the female tree, and rolled her eyes.

"There will be an exchange of gifts representing peace. If you can keep the room circulating, thank you. Next, from the solicitors Jolco and Jolco, the Moxx of Balhoon." John wrinkled his nose as the lumpy blue figure rolled out on a mechanical device that, obviously, carried him around.

"And next, from Financial Family Seven, we have the Adherents of the Repeated Meme." Fve figures in black cloaks and only one metal arm exposed each stepped out. The Doctor stared at them curiously, eyes more attentive to them than anyone else.

"The inventors of hyposlip travel systems, the brothers Hop Pyleen. Thank you!"

The brothers were lizard-like, almost humanoid in that they stood on two feet, but very little else seemed human at all.

"Cal 'Spark Plug'... Mr. and Ms. Pakoo... The Ambassadors from the City State of Blinding Light..." John was starting to lose track, watching as less and less human-like aliens came from the doors. The female tree approached them, a small sapling in a pot held in her hands gifted out to John, lips smiling.

"The gift of peace," she gave the plant to John, eyes dark and flirtatious. "I bring you a cutting of my Grandfather." John blinked, unable to speak. He was holding a part of her *Grandfather*, should he thank her? What was he supposed to do?

Luckily, the Doctor knew what to do. She rolled her eyes behind John's back and came forward, smiling broadly. "Thank you!" Er, gifts, great, she should've expected this... um trees, presents, peace... ah! "I give you in return, air from my lungs." Breathing out, she smiled, and Jabe raised an eyebrow, looking the Doctor up and down before smiling a little.

"How, intimate," she purred a little, making John quirk his own eyebrow.

"There's more where that came from," the Doctor grinned back, bouncing on her heels.

"I bet there is," Jabe winked at the Doctor before gliding away, much to John's dismay, and her place was to be taken by...

"The Moxx of Balhoon!" the Doctor exclaimed cheerfully.

"My felicitations on this historical happenstance," the bluish blobby creature squeaked cheerfully. "I give you the gift of bodily saliva." With that, he spat rather accurately into the Doctor's left eye.

Laughing, she squinted the eye shut and bowed a little, "Thank you very much." When he turned around, she quickly wiped the 'present' from her eye with a wry grin. John smirked a little at her and she gave him a playful warning glare.

"Watch it, I'm the one in charge of getting you a ride home," she chuckled. John only smiled, knowing that he didn't really want to go home. Up here and in time was much more fascinating.

Silently, the Adherents of the Repeated Meme crept up to the Doctor and John.

"Ah! The Adherents of the Repeated Meme," the Doctor grinned, covering her suspicion of them. Who else other than evil people covered their whole body in black cloaks, after all? Well, and vampires, but they were inherently evil as well... sometimes... "I bring you air from my lungs."

After heavily breathing out over them all, she stepped back and waited for their reply.

"A gift of peace in all good faith," the leader stood forward, offering out a large silver egg, as it growled out its words. Eying the egg, the Doctor weighed it in her hand and tossed it up in the air, catching it easily, before handing it to John very carefully. She wondered, briefly, if she should do that, as companions always tended to be rather accident prone, and she wasn't quite certain if she trusted the Memes.

"And last, but not least, our very special guest. Ladies and Gentlemen, and Trees and Multiforms," John smiled at the use of the word, It was rather similar to if he had simply said 'miscellaneous'. "Consider the Earth below. In memory of this dying world, we call forth The Last Human." John glanced up, eyebrows furrowed over his eyes, confused. Did the steward mean him? No, a mechanical device stretching out a... was that skin with eyes and a mouth? Eurgh...

"The Last Cassandra O'Brien Dot Delta Seventeen."

John stared, disbelieving, head swimming a little. Oh god, that was a human?

"Oh now, don't stare," Cassandra chuckled prettily, acting all the lady. "I know, I know, it's shocking, isn't it? I've had my chin _completely_ taken away and look at the difference! Look how thin I am." John tilted his head, eyes still wide. The Doctor chuckled to herself, eyes glancing to John just in time to catch the brief panic that passed over the human's face. She frowned a little to herself as John began creeping around the edge of the room.

"Thin and dainty! I don't look a day over two thousand," the skin chirruped before glancing to the two guards beside her, murmuring, "Moisturize me, moisturize me."

"Truly, I am The Last Human," John eyed the empty skin up and down, staring oddly, wondering how this thing was moving let alone thinking or speaking.

"My father was a Texan. my mother was from the Arctic Desert. They were born on the Earth and were the last to be buried in the soil." John looked at the brain in the blue canister below the skin, stared at the red veins rippling through the 'last human', gaped a little as she spoke and he saw the room through her mouth.

"I have come to honour them, and..." she sniffed a little, "say goodbye. Oh, no tears. I'm sorry. But behold! I bring gifts." From behind her, the little blue people pulled out a black pillow with an egg lying on it. "From Earth itself - the last remaining ostrich egg." The blue person lifted the egg and revealed it to the whole room. "Legend says it had a wingspan of 50 feet and blew fire from its nostrils."

John stifled a laugh, about to correct her when the Doctor shot him an amused shake of her head.

"Or was that my third husband?" Cassandra mused with a small chuckle. "Who knows! Oh, don't laugh. I'll get laughter lines! ...And here, another rarity," John watched, bemused, as an old-fashioned jukebox was wheeled out. He briefly wondered what they were going to get wrong about this machine.

"According to the archives, this was called an IPod," John snorted to himself. "It stores classical music from humanity's greatest composers." Giggling, John put a hand over his mouth, eyes gleaming with laughter, only a trickle of uneasiness seemed to run through him now. "Play on!"

"Tainted Love" echoed from the speakers, and the aliens, once clustered in their little groups, mingled among each other now, chatting and discussing alike. The music played over them, and John then realized just how strange this was.

Aliens, the earth was dying, the music...

_'Sometimes, I feel I've got to, run away I've got to! Get away...'_

"Refreshments will now be served. Earth death in 30 minutes."

Oh, that wasn't helpful, John thought with a grimace and a painful twist to all of his organs.

Heart quickening, breathing was getting more difficult... he blinked aside clammy sweat and turned around, heading quickly for the doors. Where was the toilet when you needed one?

The Doctor paused from her appreciation of the music to follow John, worried that she had managed to make yet another companion's mind melt from the sheer information overload that visiting the future usually did to the poor humans.

"Doctor?" the tree woman, Jabe, interrupted the Time Lady's rush to help John. It was quite a nuisance, really, just to snap a photo. "Thank you." The Doctor hardly thought of it, only worrying that John was in trouble, like her companions usually were when they wandered off.

"Identify species," Jabe hissed to the machine in her hands. "Please identify species."

The machine only whistled piteously, as if confused.

"Now stop it," Jabe instructed sternly. "Identify his race... Where's she from?" After a moment of distressed bleeps, the computer offered up the information. Jabe gaped a little, glancing back to where the Doctor had disappeared. "It's impossible!"

**I hope that's long enough. I should be starting on the next chapter while you're reading this. And, honestly, I'll just be happy if people read this, but reviews will make me write faster :) just saying.**


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